


Of comparisons, confessions, and healing

by like_froot



Category: Paladins: Champions Of The Realm (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 14:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18852508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/like_froot/pseuds/like_froot
Summary: Even many years later, Fernando finds himself unable to forget. Unable to let go completely.





	Of comparisons, confessions, and healing

**Author's Note:**

> *poses* I'm not sorry

Even many years later, Fernando finds himself unable to forget. Unable to let go completely.

 

His armor feels even heavier than usual when Mal’Damba touches his face, bony fingers slowly caressing the carefully shaven skin.

 

They are nothing like  _ his  _ fingers, Fernando realises. Nothing at all. Not strong and calloused, gentle and warm.

 

Mal’Damba is smaller than  _ him _ , way smaller. Not made for lifting heavy weights, for fighting for justice. Not a knight in shining armor.

 

Not that Fernando can say much about that matter, himself.

 

He likes Mal’Damba. He likes him so much that his knees feel weak when he touches him. He feels himself drowning in the sensation like it’s poison, making him feel feverish. But Fernando has loved before, and it hurt like hell. Love was gone with a single gunshot, and he was left alive to deal with the consequences. With grief. With a noble purpose that’s way too noble and too purposeful for him. Always refusing to die even when he should have been the one sacrificing himself.

 

Fernando’s cheeks are already burning when Mal’Damba’s fingers touch his lips, murmuring something about Fernando being handsome, cold skin against hot one. Fernando hears a faint hiss, and he doesn’t know if it’s either Mal’Damba’s cobra, or the man himself, but he finds it endearing nevertheless.

 

It has been ages since he got this close to another man, but that’s not why Fernando is craving the touch. He wants the man, simple as that.

 

But as simple as it it, he finds himself being undeniably and utterly  _ afraid _ .

 

He embraces Mal’Damba’s thin body like he is scared of losing him.  _ Because _ he is scared of losing him. Slow and tender, because he knows that snakes don’t really like being grabbed. He doesn’t know if this is love, not yet, because he loved one man and his absence still plagues his whole being. He doesn’t know if he can take it yet again.

 

Mal’Damba kisses him as if big, strong Fernando was a delicate rose. He sure feels as such, lips trembling, hands sweating under his armor. Mal’Damba’s lips are warm, and he wants to indulge himself, to indulge them both.

 

He can’t.

 

Fernando sobs against his lips, and Mal’Damba stops, green eyes unreadable as he puts his mask back on.

 

Fernando is ready to apologize, tears all over his face, but Mal’Damba’s fingers are on his cheeks again, sweetly caressing him, his voice calmly shushing him.

 

There are some seconds of sobbing, of mumbles, until Fernando calms down enough to speak properly again.

 

“I have to be honest,  _ guapo _ .” he says, trying to smile, even if he doesn’t feel like it at all. He has always been good at pretending. Specially at pretending to be alright. “I… I am not really a knight.”

 

He doesn’t know if Mal’Damba is surprised or not, the mask covering his features, his body language being as neutral as always. Finally, he hears a low chuckle, and Mal’Damba is looking at him, right in the eye, from behind the mask.

 

“It is fine. I already knew.”

 

And Fernando’s stomach feels a lot less heavy, all of a sudden. He breathes in, and then out, because that’s his biggest secret, the one that put him in this goddamn war, the one he would protect with his life. He is just a scared civilian with an armor too heavy for his shoulders. Nothing else.

 

“Then… why…”

 

He swears that Mal’Damba is smiling, but his suspicions become reality when Mal’Damba takes off his mask, letting him see his lips as he speaks.

 

“Your smile always cheers me up…”

 

And then, Fernando freezes. He recognizes those words. Of course a man so intimately linked to spirits would know. He realises, they’re not just  _ his  _ words, or Mal’Damba’s. It’s both’s.

 

He thanks the gods in a whisper, before kissing Mal’Damba himself, properly, this time. It’s warm, it’s nice, it feels right.

 

Fernando’s eyes are wet again, but he cannot help but smile when Mal’Damba makes a sound of contentment as they kiss.

 

It’s okay, he thinks. It’s okay. He opens up his heart a little, and realises that sharing the pain makes it, strangely, a little less painful.


End file.
